


Tangled in Love

by chicago_ruth



Category: GreedFall (Video Game)
Genre: Crying, Forced Arousal, M/M, Spoilers, Victim Treated Like Lover, Vines, doesn't realize it's rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-16 03:42:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21501307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chicago_ruth/pseuds/chicago_ruth
Summary: Constantin is the only one who can worship his cousin as his cousin deserves.
Relationships: Constantin d'Orsay/De Sardet, Constantin d'Orsay/Male De Sardet
Comments: 6
Kudos: 121
Collections: Naughty List 2019





	Tangled in Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nonconamod](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonconamod/gifts).



> Heed the tags. I named De Sardet "Florence" simply to have a name throughout narration. Feel free to find & replace it with a name of your choice.

The green mark on his cousin’s face was beautiful.

Constantin had always thought so, but now that he could see it with his new eyes, he understood just what it meant, just how much power was trapped inside of his cousin. His dear, dear Florence, ever at his side, ever steady, ever faithful, so understanding, despite the amazing depth of power lurking just under his skin.

The vines wrapped tightly around Florence’s limbs, and his cousin looked at him with concerned eyes, and the mark on him shone and called to Constantin.

Was it any wonder that Constantin wanted his cousin more than ever?

It had taken all of Constantin’s willpower not to call forth the earth and tangle vines around Florence’s limbs every time they met in the audience chamber. But it had been too dangerous, with Florence’s friends and allies present, keeping their watchful and lustful eyes on him.

Oh, Constantin knew how they all coveted Florence for themselves. He had heard rumors that were enough to send him raging, and on one evening he’d torn up the earth in anger. Nobody understood his cousin as well as he did. Nobody knew how precious he was. Nobody could ever treasure him like Constantin could.

But now! But now, here, he had Florence de Sardet, the one considered _lesser_ , the one his father found inconvenient, the one his mother had tried to assassinate twice—and would have succeeded, if not for Kurt the first time, if not for Constantin the second.

Maybe he would allow Kurt to live.

“My dear, sweet cousin,” Constantin said, placing a hand on Florence’s jaw. “Would that you could see yourself.”

“Why are you doing this, Constantin?” Florence asked, straining against the vines. The rough bark of the vines had torn through a few spots of clothing, and the skin enticed Constantin. He needed more.

Another set of vines sprouted from the ground underneath Florence’s feet, these with sharp thorns. Constantin was getting better at fine control, and he used these thorned vines to cut away the many layers of clothes his cousin insisted on wearing. The clothes that were a mix of fashions, from the natives to Theleme to the Bridge Alliance, as if to demonstrate just how much Florence was distancing himself from the Congregation.

The clothes fell away, and Florence’s breathing got faster. “Constantin. Please. Please don’t do this.”

Constantin pressed a kiss to Florence’s jaw. “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you. I would never hurt you. You are the most important person to me, dear cousin. You alone stood by my side. You alone understand me.”

He could _feel_ Florence struggling against the vines, as if the vines were a part of Constantin’s body. It was glorious, delicious friction, lighting across all of his senses and causing the desire to burn even stronger.

“Yes,” Florence said quietly. “Yes, I understand you. I know that you aren’t like this. You’re—you’re a kind man, Constantin. Despite your parents, despite your station. You’ve never been cruel. So please—please don’t do this.”

There was love in those words, and Constantin sighed happily. He knew that his cousin would understand. He used one hand to explore his cousin’s beautiful, naked skin. There were a few scars, old ones from training—maybe he should kill Kurt after all—but still he was flawless. Even his cock was perfect, neither too large nor too small, fitting wonderfully in Constantin’s hand.

He gave it a stroke, and was rewarded with Florence’s shuddered moan. What a wonderful sound! Constantin wanted more. He wanted to see Florence lost to pleasure. He wanted to see if his imagination had done Florence justice.

He stroked more, and called upon more vines—softer ones, oozing with glistening sap—and coiled those tight around Florence’s thighs. He could feel every shift in Florence’s body, every soft tremble, and it overwhelmed him. He took hold of Florence’s jaw and kissed him, pouring his love and desire into that kiss.

At first, Florence kept his lips firmly closed, but with the help of another vine, he coaxed his cousin to open for him, and then he could _taste_ Florence. It was nothing like Constantin had imagined. There was no alcohol on his tongue, no lingering staleness of tobacco. He was clean and fresh, like the earth itself, and Constantin thought he could get addicted to this taste.

But Florence was mortal still, and needed to breathe, so Constantin pulled away. While his cousin took long, heaving breaths, Constantin peppered his birthmark with more kisses, and let his fingers linger on his nipples.

“I’ve told you many times how much I love you, have I not?” Constantin whispered. “When you bind yourself to me, we shall be—we shall be together forever. We shall be as one. Nobody will be able to take you from me. Nobody will threaten us. We will be free, together.”

He bade the vines to move again, and one slithered between Florence’s cheeks while Constantin ground his erection against Florence’s thigh.

Florence writhed and tilted his head away from Constantin. “Please!”

“You shall give me your blood, and I shall give you my seed.” Constantin bit down on Florence’s collar—not to draw blood, because the blood had to be given willingly. But it pleased him to leave this mark. It pleased him when his vines left bruises too, a stark brand that would warn all away. Florence de Sardet belonged to him.

He stopped playing with Florence’s nipples and cupped his cock again. It was beginning to harden, which pleased him. It pleased him even more when the vine breached Florence’s hole and Florence thrust forward into his hand.

“Gods! Constantin, I’m begging you!” Florence cried. A few tears pooled in the corners of his eyes.

Constantin kissed the tears away. “I know just what you need.”

And then he had the vine thrust in and out in a steady, brutal pace, always hitting that spot inside his cousin, all while he pumped his cousin’s cock, and oh, the way Florence’s eyes screwed back in his head, the way he lost himself to pleasure.

Yes. Constantin would worship his cousin as he deserved, tonight, tomorrow, and every day to come.


End file.
